Sometimes the steps are small, and sometimes I panic, but I am compelled to keep moving

Thursday, September 19, 2013

And so today was terrible.

And so today
was terrible.

I teach
three classes on Tuesday, and I start at 8:00. I wasn’t prepared, so I got up
at 5:00. No big deal, except that today I woke up with the alarm. Not only
that, but I wove the alarm into my dream. That means I was very asleep.

I got up. Got
my coffee. And sat down with my Bible. Except that
I opened my computer first.

I never even
opened my Bible.

I ran into
traffic.

Somebody got
into an accident on the westbound 52, and the people in front of me wanted to
look. I parked my car at Mesa College at
7:59. Class starts at 8:00.

Class was
great. Mostly.

And then I
walked to my next class.

This class
is part of a learning community.

A learning
community with a call to group unity and group success.

Ten out of
25 students came in late. Very late.

They talked
constantly.

They couldn’t
hear me. Or they didn’t understand. Or something.

They argued
with each other. Across the room. Students taking sides. Students defending
themselves.

And I
intervened.

I reaffirmed
the call of this class to unity.

And we got
back to work.

I wanted to
cry.

This has
been a very difficult class. From the very beginning.

Half the
students don’t listen.

Half don’t
do their work.

Half don’t
seem to care.

After class
I did cry.

Am I okay?

Am I a good
teacher?

And then I sent
a venting letter to the director of the learning community.

And then I
cried again.

And yet, I
know God is in control. I know He loves me. I know I can make a difference.

If God empowers
me and I rest in Him.

But I didn’t
even open my Bible today.

I miss your
voice, God. I miss your word.

I need you.

I had
another class at 2:30. This class went great. Most classes do.

And I was
glad when it was over, so I could go home and grade papers.

Or do
nothing.

But after
class a former student walked in.

She brought
me a new journal. A beautiful blue-green journal with the words, “We write to
taste life twice” written on the cover and the words “You are expert at writing so I just
going to write. Thank you!”

No, that is
not a typo.

And she gave
me the journal and a Nestle’s chocolate bar with almonds.

She
apologized for not stopping in sooner because she had purchased the journal a
few weeks ago.

And I cried
again.

Happy tears.

Because I am
not a bad teacher.

And I do
care about my students.

And I can
make a difference. Not just in their academics, but in their lives.

And I heard
God say, “I love you. I’m with you. You are never alone. And I knew this day
was coming.”